


A Path Paved in Good Intentions (Danvers side stories)

by eighth_chiharu, StarKillerBae (Luciferous)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Baby Ben Solo, Family Feels, Gen, Ghosts, M/M, Paranormal, Young Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eighth_chiharu/pseuds/eighth_chiharu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciferous/pseuds/StarKillerBae
Summary: Moments from Ben Solo's life leading up to Danvers. And one moment after.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: The Danvers Project





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> >w< Eighth_chiharu wrote all but one of these shorts, and edited the last, so this really is her work and its beautiful!!

**_Age: 28_ **

The morning reports were the worst.

She’d given up the actual senatorial job the first time Ben had run away, but she still used her influence as a lobbyist and director of a charity that empowered lower-income people with educational and employment opportunities. As a political figure, Leia Organa-Solo had to keep up on the latest goings-on, not just in her city or her state, but in the world. She staged fundraisers all over the globe, and had been hoping to open chapters of Step Up in other countries. Take it international. All the news feeds helped her keep her finger on the pulse of each nation, until they didn’t.

Ben was missing, and Armitage was on the television, profiting.

Not exactly on the television. He’d given several interviews early on, when the case was new, but lately he was silent. He wouldn’t speak to her, or Han, or even Rey, their flower girl. He ignored them all. The chat shows talked about his book and cold-case shows talked about Ben, and all the while Armitage’s book rocketed to number one on the New York Times bestseller list. He raked in the cash while her son, her baby, could be dead in a ditch. Her dearest. Her heart.

“Auntie,” Rey said tentatively from behind her shoulder, “you should turn that off.”

The hostess on the news show suggested that Armitage’s book was a hoax, the host agreed it was possible, and Leia’s despair deepened. “He should pull it from the shelves.”

They’d had this discussion a hundred times, and it never ended well, but Leia couldn’t stop herself. It was about her boy, her child.

Rey paused, and Leia could feel her mind clicking around, trying to find something new to say. “Maybe he’s giving the money to charity.”

“He’s not,” Leia said flatly. “You know it as well as I do. You can feel it.”

“I can’t feel anything. He won’t let me.”

It was the truth. Leia had tried, too. She’d sat alone in her office, shut her eyes, and reached out across the distance, searching for Armitage, attempting to understand what he was doing and why. The first few weeks, he’d radiated a grief as panicked and strong as her own, but when the book was published, the emotions stopped, as if a stopper was popped into the mouth of a proverbial jug. Armitage didn’t take their calls. He wouldn’t return their letters or emails. He wouldn’t pull the book, and she couldn’t sense anything from him. It was as if he didn’t exist.

“... go tell Han to bring the car around. We need to get going. And you,” she added, finally glancing at her petite , willowy niece, “you need to get to school.”

* * *

**_  
Age: 13_ **

"Mom?"

Leia looks up from the bill on her desk, red pen posed above the page. Her son is silhouetted in the open doorway, one hand on the frame, his shoulders rounded, curved inward as if to protect himself. The familiar guilt pulls at her. He’s hurting, and there’s nothing she can do. He tries to hide it from her, tries to pretend that’s not why he sought her out, but it’s not possible. She’s his mother.

She gives him the pretense anyway. "What's up, honey? Nervous about starting high school?"

His fingers tighten on the frame, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His wavy hair is short in the back, long on the top, and he lets it flop over one eye to cover his face. “Do you... love me?”

It’s a knife in her chest. She drops the pen and pushes the rolling desk chair back, the leather squeaking. “Of course I do. You’re my baby. There’s no-one I love more” 

She takes a few steps, arms out, and he bursts through the doorway and collides against her, so hard he nearly knocks her over. He’s so much taller than she is, almost as tall as his father, and when she hugs him she can’t cradle all of him like she could when he was ten. She can only hug him as tightly, her cheek against his shoulder, his face against her hair.

“Not even Dad?” His voice is broken, watery, but she doesn’t mention it.

“He knows his place,” she says, partly joking. “You’re my number one, Benny.”

He sniffles. “That’s sad for Dad.”

She hates that she can’t help. She hates that he’s in pain, and curses the latest doctor with a mental round that would shock a sailor if she dared to utter it in front of her child. “Hey, he agreed to love, honor, and obey. Can’t blame anyone but himself.” She pulls back a little, tilting her head so she can see him and still be close. “Want to watch a movie?”

He sniffs again, his hair still in his face, the tendrils damp. He nods.

“With popcorn?”

Another nod. His grip is loosening.

“Okay. Go tell Elsie to put a bag in the microwave, and you pick something out.” She stretches up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be right there, okay, honey?”

For a second, he doesn’t move. Then he drops his arms and steps back. He isn’t looking at her.

“I mean it, sweetie. I’ll be right there. I just need to put the papers away.”

He doesn’t answer. He turns slowly and leaves her office.

“Ben? Just tell Elsie, okay? I’ll be right there, I promise! Okay? Ben?”

* * *

**_Age: 4_ **

“Why are you hiding?” 

Leia wakes slowly, dragged unwillingly from sleep. She’d spent a long, dull night reading over the new bills and proposals, and she blearily looks at the alarm clock on her bedside table. The numbers glowed a steady red.

3:44am. 

A familiar voice, high and curious, says into the quiet, “Why can’t you come out?” 

She looks up, confused. Ben sits at the foot of the bed, staring into the pitch black gloom of her closet.

“Ben?” 

She sits up, reaching for him, her eyes locked on the dark recesses. She didn’t remember leaving the door open. She pulls him into her lap as Han stirs beside her. 

“Whass goin’ on?” he slurs, clumsily shrugging the blanket off. 

Ben snuggles against Leia, contentedly resting his head against her chest. As she watches, the closet door slowly creaks closed, the sound of the latch clicking shut loud in the silence.

“Mommy, there's a man in the closet.” He looks up at her with wide brown eyes, two fingers playing with his lower lip. 

“A what?” Han sits up. He drops his voice to a whisper. “Both of you stay here.”

Leia’s pulse quickens as Han slips out of the bed in only his boxers and undershirt. He retrieves a small gun from his own night stand, puts a finger to his lips, and creeps to the light switch. He flips it on and floods their bedroom with bright artificial light.

She turns Ben so he can’t see the closet. Her son squirms and struggles in her hold, pushing against her thighs with his heels. She clutches him tighter, every muscle tense. She’s ready to run, ready to drag Ben to the floor and push him under the bed if that’s what it takes. She’ll do anything to keep him safe.

Han points the gun at the closet and shouts, “Come out! I’m armed!”

The seconds crawl by. Her heart pounds, and each second that passes makes her more and more certain that there’s no one in that closet that Han can see. 

“Mommy?” Ben asks again, still squirming in her arms. 

Han approaches the closet on tiptoe. The door creaks as he yanks it open, gun thrust out. He frowns. “There’s no-one here.”

He steps in closer, and Leia sees a figure. Darker than the shadows around it, it has no eyes, no features at all, and yet it stares directly at her, ignoring Han as he shifts clothing and mutters invectives about small children and their imaginations. Giving up, Han turns back to Leia, and the figure melts backwards, disappearing into the wall of the closet.   
  
“Nothing there,” he says with a shrug and tired sigh. “Must have been the wind, or a nightmare, huh?”

He switches the safety of his gun back on and returns the weapon to the bedside table before dropping onto the bed on Leia’s side. He pats her legs comfortingly. She smiles faintly and allows Ben to squirm out of her lap.

He crawls to Han, climbing into his father’s arms. His eyes are wide and earnest. “No, Daddy, it wasn’t a nightmare! There was a man in the closet!”

* * *

**_Age: 18 months_ **

Ben is the most beautiful thing Leia has ever seen.

As soon as he’s born, she holds him. She kisses his head with its soft wisps of dark hair, kisses his plump cheeks, kisses his tiny fingers with their surprisingly sharp fingernails. She cradles him from morning to night, feeds him from her breast and wishes she could kiss him while he eats. She relinquishes him only to Han, and then, later, at their house, to Luke, and to Amilyn when she visits. She takes a month’s leave, and every day of it is full of wonder at what they’ve created.

When her leave is up and it’s time to return to her duties, she’s determined to be progressive as well as attentive. She asks Han to come with her. He has no employment that requires regular hours, and he dotes on Ben. They call their household staff and carefully arrange for everything to be moved to a small townhome in Washington DC, and what can't be moved is purchased outright. A nursery is prepared, a bassinet and a changing table assembled in the green-striped room, and Leia and Han settle into the routine of saving the free world.

Ben does not settle.

Whenever he isn’t being held, he cries. He cries at any and all hours, so much so that nobody gets any sleep, and Leia ends up taking him to the pediatrician more times in a month than he ought to go in a year. The doctor does multiple tests, examining Ben from stem to stern as Han puts it, but they find nothing. Ben eats when he isn't crying, has normal bowel movements, doesn't vomit, doesn't do anything out of the ordinary besides cry and run low, exhausted fevers.

With each failure to pin down the cause of Ben's distress, Leia finds herself becoming more and more possessive. She moves the bassinet into their room, thinking Ben is afraid of the dark or of monsters he can't describe. She's sensitive, yes, she can discern that much, but she has no training, not like her grandfather, and she can't feel anything from her son but terror, which only seems to stop when they're holding him.  _ Manipulation _ , the doctor says when they tell him what they've done,  _ children are good at that, it's how they survive,  _ but Han calls bullshit, snatching their son from the examination table and storming out of the doctor's office. It's the last time they go.

"He's our kid, and you know what he needs," Han says as they get into the car. Leia climbs into the back with Ben on her lap, pulling the lapbelt over both of them. "I trust you, Princess. If he needs to be held, we'll hold him _. _ "

And they do.

Han drives them straight to the closest department store, and they buy two slings and another baby carrier, the kind that can be worn on the front or the back of the adult. When they get home, they divide their purchases and climb into their bed, leaning against the headboard. Han takes the first shift. Ben fits snugly into the cloth sling, the tears drying on his little face as he falls asleep against the warmth of his father’s chest. They watch him for a long while, but when he doesn’t wake, Han reaches over and squeezes Leia’s hand.

“He’s okay. Get some work done, I’ll stay here.”

She bites her lip and nods, then kisses him and slips out of bed to grab a few documents and her notepad. When she returns, Han is asleep, one arm over his stomach, just below Ben, the other resting on the covers. Leia slides her hand into Han’s free one, leans back against the pillows, and watches them. It’s only a few minutes before she falls asleep, too.


	2. Blueberry Muffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming home at last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this is Eighth_Chiharu's beautiful work <3

"You're not driving yourself," Rey said. She barely reached Hux's shoulder, but her glare was pure Skywalker determination. "Finn offered to get your car. Poe's going with him. Give us your keys."

Hux stiffened. "I'm perfectly capable of operating a motor vehicle. I don't need...

" He trailed off. Rey watched him, her brow furrowing. Hux shook his head, embarrassed and tired of his own bullshit. "... Sorry. A ride would be appreciated. I'm sorry for the long drive."

Rey's expression unfolded into relief, and she nodded, motioning to the others. "It's nothing. We'll take the van. We'll be there before you know it."

* * *

He expected to stay awake, nervously perched on the bench seat in the rear of the Rebel Team’s van and holding Kylo’s hand for the entire two hours and seventeen minutes of the drive, but it was 6:00am, and he’d been awake twenty-four hours. He fell asleep as soon as they hit the highway, Rey and Rose and Poe all talking in the front in hushed voices, the radio playing classic rock.

He woke slowly, his eyes still shut, and felt Kylo’s warm arm around his shoulders, and Kylo’s breath against his hair. For several wonderful heartbeats, Hux thought he was still in uni, sneaking kisses in the back of his cheap two-door Tercel. He smiled sleepily and turned toward Kylo. The seatbelt cut into his chest.

“We’re here,” Rey announced, tone soft. “Hux, Ben, wake up.”

Kylo unclicked his seatbelt as Hux opened his eyes. He stared at Kylo’s profile, at someone who was twenty-nine instead of twenty, and cycled through several emotions at once. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, and he pressed his trembling lips together.

Kylo leaned over and engulfed him in a hug.

Then he said, hesitantly, “Is this where you stay?”

Hux pulled back enough to glance up. Kylo looked out the window, his brown eyes wide. Hux followed his gaze. “Oh. Ah... Yes. Kylo, this is our house.”

Kylo’s eyebrows went up. “You have a house?”

“ _ We _ have a house.” Still in their embrace, Hux squeezed Kylo’s elbows. “It’s yours, too.”

“Oh.”

Hux frowned, anxious. “You don’t like it? We don’t have to live here, love. We can live anywhere you like.”

“It’s not that.” Kylo was still staring at the two-story house. 

“Then what is it?”

Deadpan, Kylo said, “I can’t afford a mortgage.”

* * *

The cement walk from the driveway to the house seemed longer. Hux usually crossed it mindlessly while checking his phone or digging out his keys and juggling a large no-foam latte, but his hands were empty. He could see the entire house as if it was someone else’s. The white-railed porch, the green bushes, the light blue paint and the white-framed windows, all as if he had yet to purchase it.

But there were his basil plants on the porch, and the rattan chairs he’d procured solely for Phasma’s visits. She was more outdoorsy than she let on; she was more than who he’d come to know these past four years.

He glanced back to make sure the van was still in the driveway. Rey waved at him from behind the windshield. Rose gave him a thumbs-up. Kylo watched, pale-faced, through a passenger side window. His eyes were still the same color as aged honey. He was still Kylo.

Hux lifted a hand for all three of them, then turned back to the walk. He went up the porch steps, paused, and looked back again. Rey waved. He nodded. Taking a breath, he knocked on the front door.

Footsteps echoed inside the house, a heavy tread on his wood floors, and the door opened to reveal Phasma in shorts and a tank top, her feet bare. Her eyebrows rose. “Back already? I was just working out. I thought you weren’t due until — Is that a  _ van _ ?”

“I left my keys in my coat, and I lost my coat. Phas —”

“I would’ve come to get you, Hux. You should’ve called me!” She peered past him at the van again. “What is ‘Rebel Investigations’? Don’t tell me a reporter gave you a ride back, that sounds abhorrent.”

“It’s not a reporter, it’s my cousin. Cousin-in-law. Rey.”

“Oh, sorry.” Phasma blinked. “Rey? The one who — good Lord, you let me look like an idiot.” She waved at the van, then made a ‘come in’ motion. “Tell her to come inside. I made blueberry muffins for you, but you can share them.”

Hux’s heart swelled, pressing against his lungs. “Phas, I have to tell you something.”

“What?” Her blue eyes softened. “You found the answer. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not like that. Well, it is, sort of. Yes. But, Phas...” He paused, afraid and excited. “Phas, he was there. Kylo.”

Her hand went to her chest. “Oh, God.”

“I brought him home.”

“...You  _ what _ ?”

“Not like that! He’s not — Phasma, he’s  _ alive _ . I wanted to call you, but —”

“— but your phone is in your coat.” She frowned. “Are you all right?”

“No, I dropped my phone in the tunnel, when — this is ridiculous. The neighbors must be watching through their windows.”

She stepped out of the doorway, waving at it. “I told you to come inside, don’t blame me.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I —” Hux turned to the van and made the same ‘come in’ motion PHasma had. “Rey! Rose! Damn it, hold on.”

He marched back to the van, crossing the lawn and leaving dents in it. He pulled the side door of the van wide open. Kylo started, glancing apprehensively from Hux to the blonde valkyrie that stood on the porch, and Hux was suddenly glad Poe had insisted on making a run to the local CVS for shorts and a t-shirt. If Kylo had been in his stained vintage hospital gown, Phasma might’ve had a fit. 

Rey and Rose were both sliding out of their seats, shutting their doors and going over the lawn to greet Phasma. All three women were smiling as if this were a garden party, but Hux knew they were waiting. 

“That’s my friend, Phasma. I met her at — it doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you later. She’s watching the house for us.” Hux took both his husband’s hands. “Is it okay if you come inside?”

Kylo smiled, but it wavered at the corners. “She looks like she could kick my ass.”

Hux laughed. “She probably could. But I’d bet on you anyway.”

“Thanks.” Kylo’s gaze slid back to Hux. “You’re gonna say something corny about being my husband, aren’t you.”

“Maybe,” Hux said. He squeezed Kylo’s hands, tears pricking his eyes. They were happy tears, though. Really happy. “Maybe I am. Come on, there’s blueberry muffins inside.”

His husband’s eyes shone just as brightly. “Shit, you shoulda said that first.”


End file.
